


you're coming down (your hands are shaking)

by honestlylemmejust



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Post-Break Up, Song fic, alcohol tw, also harry has ocd, and the normal stuff is in the present, but he is depressed, but its there i promise, but mostly its louis being a bit dramatic i guess, im so sorry, like minimally, louis is literally drunk through the entire fic, louis is sad, one off comment about suicide and depression, sorry for the spoiler, the parts in italics are like in the past, this is just so much angst i dont even know what happened to me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-29
Updated: 2014-07-29
Packaged: 2018-02-11 00:04:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2045319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honestlylemmejust/pseuds/honestlylemmejust
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He ends up laughing too because Harry looks fucking radiant when he laughs and for a second he’s not biting his fingernails or adjusting his plate and fuck if that’s not really, really beautiful.<br/>“I’m not good at the whole dating thing.” Harry tells him, after a little bit of time has gone by.<br/>Louis rejects that almost immediately, because Harry seems like he’s perfectly kind. “Well, I definitely think that it’s worth testing out to see if you really are or not.” He says, in what he hopes comes across as smooth. If Harry thinks it is or not, he doesn’t say. He does, however, agree.</p><p>(or the one where Louis gets drunk to try and forget Harry, but it kind of has the opposite effect.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	you're coming down (your hands are shaking)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HetBud](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HetBud/gifts).



> originally i picked this prompt bc i thought it would be short and sweet and easy to write and i expected to write like the minimum 4k, and then it basically ran away from me and i got really caught up in it and ended up spouting out 10k of horrible angst and stuff i literally know nothing about.  
> my prompt was "Something based off of Nothing by The Script" and so this is _something ___i guess and i really hope that you like it and it's everything you wished for (i know u said fluff i swear if u squint there is a lot of fluff in here!) (the prompt seemed to call to mind angst)  
>  as a disclaimer, i don't really know much about OCD, i haven't experienced it firsthand or anything like that, so im really sorry if i've gotten anything wrong or misrepresented it in any way, i researched and tried my best.  
> also i don't own one direction and blah blah blah disclaimer disclaimer
> 
> i just wanted to thank my beta, who has just been absolutely awesome and who ill probably ask to beta all my fics for the rest of my life (whoops) and also thanks to my best friend bc i probably would have had a lame plot without her and she's just helped me like A TON so  
> anyways, all mistakes are mine, i hope you like it and yeah. 
> 
> (the title is clearly taken from Nothing by The Script)

_The florescent lights are giving Louis a headache, and he’s been in the store trying to find a gift for his sister’s birthday with no luck for what feels like all day. He’s bored out of his fucking mind and stressed beyond belief, thinking about how his rent is almost past due, and how he’ll have to do a shit ton of work next week to cover it. He doesn’t know why he came here, furniture stores are absolutely awful. But then he saw the curls and the long legs stretched out across the aisle, belonging to a boy who was sitting on the bottom of one of the shelves, fiddling with his shirtsleeve. He knew that he had to go up and talk to him, if anything._

_“Are you waiting for someone?”_

_Louis knew the boy was pretty, he probably wouldn’t have walked up if he didn’t think so, but when the boy looks up Louis is nearly blown away by it. Green eyes, red lips, chocolate curls, and a wary smile._

_“Hello,” he says softly and then says it again even quieter, like he’s not sure he should really be entertaining Louis’ addressing him.  “I’m waiting for my mum and my sister.”_

_Louis, never being one to really pace himself, wants to know everything about this boy in an instant. He wants to know why he’s sitting here waiting for his mom and his sister, and how he likes his pancakes, if he even likes pancakes. Louis is already annoyed by the idea of anyone hating pancakes. He wants to know if he has a boyfriend and if he should just ask him out already._

_“What for?”_

_The boy cocks his head to the side, and maybe hefinds Louis’ interest strange. “They were furniture shopping, said they’d just be a moment.”_

_Louis nods, to be polite. “Right. Do you want to maybe go out with me sometime?”_

_The boy gives him a look that Louis can’t really read. “Excuse me?”_

_“Pancakes, we should get pancakes sometime.”_

_“You don’t even know my name.”_

_Louis shrugs. “Okay well, I’m Louis, what’s your name?”_

_“Harry, but-”_

_“I can get to know you better over pancakes, how about?” Louis interrupts, not really feeling guilty about the interrupting part. He’s sure whatever Harry has to say is probably endlessly engrossing, and any other time he’d be happy to listen, but right now he has to get this all out or he probably will end up shrinking back and pretending it was all a big joke._

_Harry bites his lip and Louis has an internal panic that he’s embarrassed himself in front of another hopelessly straight guy, or even more embarrassing, someone too young. Not that Harry looks like he might be too young, but he has a baby face and it’s not exactly a far off idea._

_“Do you- do you like pancakes?” Louis asks when he hasn’t really gotten an answer from Harry._

_“Can I think about it?” he asks instead of answering the question. “I can give you my number.”_

_And Louis has never really turned the opportunity to get a pretty boy’s number. “Yes, please do.”_

_This time the boy cracks a smile and it grows a little when Louis hands over his phone for him to put his number into. When he hands it back to Louis the name reads simply ‘harry’ in all lowercase letters, and three banana emojis. Louis just quirks an eyebrow at him before pocketing his phone._

_“Just don’t like- you know.” He clears his throat. “Just don’t call me every day or whatever.” Harry seems really earnest and sweet. Louis likes that._

_He laughs at Harry’s comment anyway. “Right, wouldn’t want you getting tired of me already.”_

_Harry smiles and bites his lip to try and contain it, shrugging. “Probably not.”_

_“Okay, well I’ll call you every other day then,” Louis says, patting his back pocket, indicating where he’s put his phone. “I’ve got to go.”_

_“See you?” Harry asks, like he actually might not see Louis again, despite the fact that he has Harry’s number with every intention of calling and texting him whenever he gets the chance._

_“See you, Curly.”_

_He doesn’t turn around to leave until he’s seen Harry smile for a few seconds at least._

 

_/_

 

Louis is staring at his phone. Harry is pulled up in his address book, the same as when he entered it the first time. Louis’ vision is a little blurry, but he can still make out the little bananas. He wipes his eyes and thinks maybe he should switch out his contacts, they’re getting a little buggy and his eyes are irritated. That could also be the fact that he’s going to cry, but no one has to know that. It’s the contacts, it’s always the contacts.

When Niall puts an arm over his shoulder, he shrugs it off. Honestly, he doesn’t need Harry’s _best friend_ giving him fucking comfort. He should be with Harry. It’s not fair that they have to share friends, considering they already divided up all of their shit. It was supposed to make it hurt less, but Louis still finds himself wishing that he had Harry’s jumpers to curl up with, so he’s not sure why they had agreed on that.

“I thought you said drinks would help me forget about him,” Louis grumbles toward Liam.

“They always help me.”

Louis doesn’t remind him that it’s probably because he only dates girls for two weeks. Louis dated Harry for over a fucking year. _Shit_. Why did he believe that drinks would help when they haven’t ever worked before? It’s their fucking _anniversary_ , why did Louis think anything would work?

Zayn comes back around after a while, new round of beers from the bar, and Louis feels like he’s ready to go home already; this was a bad idea.

It’s easy to focus on getting drunk, Louis thinks. The steady hum in his veins, his heart beating slower, the room starting to feel a little bigger, and tingly fingers. It’s shit at helping him forget anything, in fact, it’s probably doing the opposite, he thinks. He tries to focus on his surroundings though, focus on the story Zayn is telling, something about his stupid cat who hates Louis for some stupid goddamned reason probably. He’s been nothing but nice to that cat and this is the thanks he gets.

He tries to focus on how Niall keeps scooting closer to him, trying to touch him in some way to subconsciously comfort him. He tries to focus on how Liam gets fidgety the more he drinks and starts squeaking his stupid trainers on the floor, searching for girls to take home so he can hopefully get lucky. His original idea is always to help Louis out, _always,_ but he usually gets a little side-tracked in the process.

Zayn doesn’t really talk much usually, even when he’s high, but when you get enough alcohol in him he’s talking about literally everything. He and Niall are both pretty funny, and Louis would probably get involved and have a laugh but he doesn’t feel up to anything. It’s hard to focus on anything but Harry’s contact in his phone, screaming out to be dialed.

He wishes he could just shut off his brain for a second.

The air feels heavy and thick, smelling of cigarettes and alcohol and maybe vaguely of vomit. Louis wants to shut it all out, leave the pull of the loud music and the feeling of drowning.

“I have to take a piss,” he speaks up and then takes off towards the back of the building, pushing past bodies and people trying to play snooker. His friends are probably drawing straws for who has to go back and check on him in the next five minutes if he hasn’t come back by then. It might have to do with that one time he told them he was going to off himself. He wasn’t being serious, but they won’t really let it go. Louis feels a little bit like maybe it’s for the best, since the depression has gotten worse the last few weeks with the anticipation of him and Harry’s anniversary on his mind. They’re worried about him and maybe sometimes he’s a little worried about himself, not that he’d really do anything about it. He’s not sure he _can_ do anything. 

He pulls out his phone again and a cigarette to smoke. Harry had gotten him to quit, but since they split he hasn’t really been able to keep up with it himself. Everyone has their vices. Not that he couldn’t smoke out in the bar, but it feels safer to hide out in the bathroom.

He fiddles with his phone for a little bit, always somehow ending up coming back to Harry’s contact. It’s hard to look at, but at the same time he can’t stop staring at those numbers, like he hasn’t completely memorized them by now. He has.

He slides down the wall and sits on the floor, counting the flecks on the tile, losing count of the number. He thinks maybe if he bangs his head against the wall enough times to mistake the blurry vision for a concussion instead of alcohol maybe then he’ll finally forget about Harry.

 

/

 

_Harry keeps rushing off to the bathroom to wash his hands and Louis is getting worried. Harry must feel really awkward, especially since they’re on their first date and they barely know each other and Louis is being really shit at conversation. Small talk is generally just really stupid and he’s slapping himself over and over in his head for talking about the stupidest subjects._

_The thing is that Harry is devastatingly attractive, and Louis thinks he already likes him, even though they haven’t talked much, but that’s entirely his own fault. It’s just so difficult, and he wants to know everything about him, but he’s not sure how to do that without basically interrogating him. He’s so ridiculously nervous he thinks he might just pretend he’s going to the bathroom and literally just go home and throw up or something. He really wants Harry to like him._

_When Harry comes back, Louis promises himself to double his efforts in trying to have a good conversation with Harry. At this point all he knows that Harry doesn’t really watch a lot of football, which a real shame because that’s usually where Louis takes the conversation and runs with it. He also knows that Harry doesn’t like pets and he’s in between work at the moment._

_“Are you seeing anyone?” Louis asks, because he’s an idiot and within the time that Harry was gone he couldn’t think of anything else to ask._

_Harry adjusts his silverware again and takes another bite of his food, wiping his mouth right after. “I’m not at the moment, no. Are you?”_

_Louis shakes his head, leaning back in his seat a little and feeling bad because Harry has such good posture compared to him. “Had a boyfriend like last year, but he was an asshole and I got over it pretty quick when I left him. He wasn’t sure if he was gay. You’re definitely gay, right?”_

_Harry shrugs and smiles slyly, but doesn’t elaborate. Louis isn’t sure if that’s him being funny or being purposely vague. Clearly this date is off to a good start._

_It taking Harry ages to eat his pancakes, always stopping to adjust his cutlery and then wiping his mouth every single time after taking a bite, it seems like it would be exhausting to Louis._

_“Any weird habits?” Louis finds himself asking, and again he feels like such an idiot, but it’s not really like he can take it back or make it never happen now that he’s opened up his stupid mouth._

_“Well, I have obsessive compulsive disorder if that counts.” And as if to emphasize his point, he adjusts his silverware again. “Pretty much everything I do is like a really bad habit, times ten.”_

_“I’m sorry,” is leaving Louis’ lips before he’s even thinking about it, really, and Harry is just dismissing it like that’s all he ever does and it’s enough to make Louis feel bad and like a complete idiot all over again._

_So when he opens his mouth this time he blurts out, “I have trust and abandonment issues.”_

_Harry fucking_ laughs _at that and Louis isn’t sure whether to find it funny as well or be extremely offended and just walk out of the restaurant. He ends up laughing too because Harry looks fucking radiant when he laughs and for a second he’s not biting his fingernails or adjusting his plate and fuck if that’s not really, really beautiful._

_“I’m sorry,” This time it’s Harry who’s apologizing. “That’s really shitty.”_

_Louis looks at him confused even though he’s still smiling and chuckling about the whole entire thing. “Then why the fuck are you laughing?”_

_Harry blushes but he’s still smiling. “It’s just the first time someone has tried to one-up me on the whole OCD thing. I didn’t know how to react; normally people just leave because I’m taking too long with my food and I keep getting up to wash my hands.”_

_“I thought it was just because I was a shitty conversation maker,” Louis admits, and they both laugh when Harry agrees that he is._

_“I’m not good at the whole dating thing.” Harry tells him, after a little bit of time has gone by._

_Louis rejects that almost immediately, because Harry seems like he’s perfectly kind. “Well, I definitely think that it’s worth testing out to see if you really are or not.” He says, in what he hopes comes across as smooth. If Harry thinks it is or not, he doesn’t say. He does, however, agree._

_And if Louis googles everything there is to know about OCD that night on his computer and goes into work tired as fuck because of it, only he has to know about it, really._

 

/

 

Niall comes in and checks on his after about eight minutes, Louis checking the time on his phone nearly every second, waiting.

“What did you do this time? Play rock paper scissors?” he asks, locking his phone and standing up, knowing Niall will pull him out of the bathroom if he doesn’t move.

Niall is just standing around with his arms crossed while Louis splashes his face with water. He can see him standing around by the door in the bathroom mirror reflection.

“Do you want to go home?” Niall asks finally, looking too sympathetic for Louis’ liking.

He shakes his head, wiping his face. “I’m fine.”

Niall is next to him then, picking up his phone and unlocking it. He shows it to Louis, like he hasn’t been staring at it for last half hour at least, and he looks sad. “You’re not.”

“I’m not gonna call him, I just like to know it’s still there.” They both know that’s a lie, and Louis will end up calling him at the end of the night if his friends don’t take his phone away. It’s just that it feels like it’s been so long since he’s heard Harry’s voice. It’s only been a month, but it feels more like a lifetime, especially after spending every day with him.

Niall puts the phone in his pocket. “Louis, we’ve talked about this. He was just as bad for you as you were for him, you said it yourself.”

Louis shakes his head fervently. How can Niall say that when being with Harry was so easy that it felt like breathing? How can it be true if meeting Harry and falling in love with him felt like coming home? “It’s not like that,” he says instead.

“He’s got issues, Lou.” Niall puts a hand on his shoulder. “Issues that aren’t yours to get involved in if he doesn’t want you to. S’why he wanted you to leave.”

“He’ll change his mind,” Louis says, and he means it. He knows that if he could just talk to Harry again, they could work it out, make things better.

“Hey,” Niall is looking at him disapprovingly, and apparently Niall can see reason even if he’s drunk. “It won’t work. Just go out and there and try to smile and have a good time, okay?” He seems to be debating something before reaching back into his pocket and pulling out Louis’ phone. “Here. Just-” He sighs. “Just don’t try to call him, alright?”

“I just-”

Niall shakes his head. “No, I need you to promise me, okay?”

It takes a lot out of him, and he knows it’s a promise that he probably won’t keep, but he steels himself and promises anyway.

 

/

 

 _“No fucking way.”_ _Harry disputes, tossing popcorn at Louis’ head. “Rihanna is not better than Beyoncé.” He’s got his feet tangled with Louis’ on the couch and they were watching a film, but Louis feels like it’s pretty long forgotten at this point. They’ve only been dating for a month maybe, mostly filled with dates where Harry just comes over and cooks dinner for Louis and then they both fall asleep in Louis’ bed, sweaty and sleepy.  Louis is always tired as hell when he goes into work the next day, not that he’s really complaining. It’s been nice, and Harry is definitely one of the nicest guys Louis has ever dated, so that’s something he’s a little bit proud of._

_Louis puts the piece of popcorn in his mouth, chewing when he answers Harry. “Beyoncé is overrated.”_

_Harry squawks, pinching Louis’ ankle. “How can you say that?”_

_“You know it’s true.”_

_He shakes his head. “Of course not! I don’t even like that kind of music and I can agree that she’s the best.”_

_Louis is teasing clearly, but he likes teasing Harry because he usually thinks Louis is being serious. It’s cute. “Sorry, it’s just what I believe.” He crosses his arms and closes his eyes._

_He feels something falling on his head, and it only takes opening his eyes to realize that Harry has just dumped his bowl of popcorn over Louis’ head. “Take it back,” he says indignantly._

_Louis’ mouth is open in a silent gasp. “What the fuck?”_

_“Take it back,” he says again, holding in a giggle._

_Louis tackles him back against the couch. “You’re such a brat.”_

_Harry just gives him a stupid grin, hands pinned to the couch and popcorn in his hair. He’s such an idiot and Louis is pretty sure he’s in love with him. Maybe._

_“I hate you,” he says instead, but he’s pretty sure his returning smile says the opposite._

_Harry reaches up and tugs on a strand of Louis’ hair, picking out a piece of popcorn and popping it into his mouth. He smiles around the food and Louis just laughs, leaning down to kiss him on the lips. Harry hums, pleased with his little reward._

_“But you agree, right?” Harry asks._

_Louis rolls his eyes and shakes his head, kissing Harry again because sometimes he just needs to shut his mouth, and also because he’s too adorable not to kiss. He knows that Harry will freak out about cleaning this later, adamant about doing it himself, but Louis is happy that Harry is okay now._

_“We had sex to Partition.” He murmurs against Louis’ lips, breaking the kiss._

_Louis breaks away to bark out a laugh. “We had the radio on, so not technically.”_

_“Technicalities.” Harry whispers against Louis’ lips and then they’re kissing again._

 

_/_

 

Niall leaves Louis in the bathroom to collect himself and try to get himself together at least a little bit. He splashes his face with water again and keeps going over and over what Niall said to him in his head.

It’s not true that he’s better off without Harry, he’s sure that’s just something people tell you so you can pretend it’s true and feel better about yourself. Harry had been the one to break things off, said that Louis was too good for him and that he didn’t deserve to be a part of Harry’s problems, and it was his nightmare to deal with. He begged and pleaded for Louis to just go, and that last thing Louis wanted to do was argue, since they’d done enough of that lately. He keeps playing that over and over in his head, keeps thinking that he should have done something differently. Maybe if he’d been more understanding, or if he’d listened more, he’s not really sure. It’s just hard to think that while everyone was apparently thinking that Harry was dragging Louis down, Harry was thinking the same thing.

He just wishes he could do things differently, to go back and change the way he handled it. It’s almost like he can’t even remember what went through his head, like he was frozen still when Harry told him to leave or something. It’s the only real explanation.

It just doesn’t make sense, especially not when they worked so well together. Louis knows it’s not just Harry, and it’s not just the whole ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ thing, he doesn’t buy it. He knows there are a lot of things that he could have done differently and if he just got one more chance to prove that to Harry, he would.

His head seems to be spinning less when he looks up into the mirror this time, which is definitely a marked improvement. It doesn’t make him think of Harry any less than before though.

 

/

 

_When Louis walks inside of his flat he’s greeted by a living room full of plants. Next, he’s greeted by Harry, where he’s hiding behind a small tree._

_“What is all of this?” he asks, dropping his bag by the door._

_Harry is so excited, crossing the living room in his stupid jean shorts and fuzzy socks, to come up and hug Louis. “I thought it was getting a bit boring in here, so I bought a few plants,” he explains while Louis takes off his shoes._

_“A few?”_

_He seems anguished at the question, looking down at his feet. “I only wanted to get a couple, for the living room and maybe the kitchen.”_

_Louis chuckles because at this point he knows Harry too well. “And then what happened?”_

_Harry looks up at Louis then, pouting a little. “They were all so pretty, I wanted to get them all. I’m sorry, but it was either this or a cat and you said no cats, so this was the only-”_

_Louis kisses him, so caught up in the fact that he loves Harry so much that he doesn’t even care that he’s got at least thirty or more plants of different sizes sitting in his living room. He’d probably even let Harry get a pet if he asked nicely enough, even be willing to hide it from their landlord and also try to figure out a way in which Harry could take care of it without losing his mind. He’s so_ gone _for this boy after only a short period of time and usually he’d be scared about it, but everything is so easy with Harry that he doesn’t even have to think twice about it._

_“It’s just nice to be able to take care of something for once,” Harry says, eyes still closed, when Louis pulls away._

_Louis kisses him on the nose and smiles. “Tell me about it sometime. I’ll make us lunch.”_

_Harry smiles back and it just makes Louis want to smile even wider, knowing his boy is so happy that he’s practically glowing. He knows that it’s going to keep Harry that much more occupied, counting the plants and probably over watering them, but he gets lonely at home by himself all day and he can’t have a job, so it’s probably good for him._

_He slips into the kitchen, and opens the fridge to find something he can make while Harry is still busy in the living room. “Did you name them?” he asks, switching to search in the cupboards instead and wishing he’d gone grocery shopping._

_Harry comes up behind him, the tips of his socked feet touching Louis’ heels and his hair tickling Louis’ neck. “Nope.” He slides his cold hands underneath Louis’ shirt and onto his stomach. “Need any help?”_

_Louis gasps and tries to squirm away, but Harry keeps him held in place. “Why are your hands so fucking cold?”_

_Harry just laughs and nuzzles into where Louis’ neck and shoulder meet. “Sorry, you’re just really warm. Let me help you with lunch, yeah?”_

_Louis relents, of course, but not without rolling his eyes and prying Harry’s arms off of his body. “You’re terrible.”_

_He gives a kiss to Louis’ temple, which says that he knows Louis means the exact opposite. “In return you can help me move the plants.”_

_Louis groans but kisses Harry anyway and tries not to notice when Harry washes his hands once more than usual._

 

_/_

 

Louis tries to fake a smile even though he’s feeling a bit like he’s falling apart on the inside. He’s properly drunk by now, stumbling over his words and not really caring that no one is paying attention to his stupid rant about how he could have been a better boyfriend. They’ve all heard it a million times.

It’s all that he thinks about, just a swirl in his mind of Harry, Harry making him dinner, Harry kissing perfect bruises onto his skin, and Harry smiling with his dimples on display. Everything just feels wrong because Louis isn’t seeing that right now, right in front of him. He doesn’t have a drunk Harry with him, getting all touchy by the bar and draping himself over Louis. He doesn’t have Harry to go home with in the taxi, practically getting each other off on the way there, and paying the driver extra for his trouble. And he doesn’t have Harry kissing him goodnight and tangling their feet together under the sheets. Not that it wasn’t hell to deal with the next day, but Louis is drunk so he’s not exactly thinking about the bad parts of their relationship, and he’s certainly not in the right frame of mind.

It’s not fair that his friends get to sit here and be happy, but still tell him that he can’t call Harry. He knows that he could get over it, he could get drunk a lot and be around his friends, and he could eventually learn to live without Harry, and that could be okay. He doesn’t think he can do it like this though, knowing that he didn’t tell Harry exactly what he felt when Harry threw him out. Even after he came back to divide up their stuff, he never said what he needed to say. Even when Harry gave him his favorite plant and whispered to him to take care of it, and sent him off to live with Zayn.

Louis just goes over it again and again in his head and he doesn’t know why he didn’t say anything, why he let Harry make this decision when it was clearly wrong.

It’s not fucking fair because Harry is what makes him happy, and fuck it if that makes him selfish, unrealistic, or whatever the fuck anyone else thinks.

 

/

 

_The first time it happens Louis is so afraid that he’s done something really wrong and fucked up all of his chances with Harry. It’s just that they haven’t been dating that long and Harry seemed so okay with everything so far that Louis didn’t think it was a problem._

_He mistook repeated kissing for trying to snog and it became apparent when they were on the bed and he was getting hard that Harry most definitely wasn’t, in fact, he seemed like he was trying to get away from Louis. Which felt wrong and awful and terribly confusing._

_“I’m sorry_ , _” Harry groans, curling up on one side of the bed and covering his face._

 _Louis’ heart is racing and his mind is going a million different directions and he doesn’t know what to fucking_ say _in a situation like this. He’s just sitting with his legs crossed, staring at Harry’s back and wondering what the fuck happened. “Did I do something wrong?”_

_Harry shakes his head more than three times, but Louis doesn’t count. “No, it’s me. I’m sorry.”_

_“Can we talk about it?” Louis asks, and his heart is in his throat; he’s really torn up about possibly hurting Harry or making him uncomfortable._

_Harry shrugs, but he doesn’t turn around. “I’m inconsistent.”_

_Which Louis knew, but he didn’t know it would affect stuff like this. He feels really stupid and selfish and he’s not really sure how you’re supposed to come back from something like this. Apologizing seems too weak and he’s not really sure Harry even wants him to apologize. It seems like it’s his only option though at the moment. “That’s okay, I promise it’s okay, you don’t have to be sorry._ I’m _sorry_.”

_Apart from his heavy breathing, which Louis suspects might be from crying, Harry is otherwise silent._

_“Can I hold you, Harry? Are you alright?”_

_He shakes his head and Louis feels helpless in the silence that ensues. “It’s not you.” He finally says, but Louis isn’t sure if he believes that. “It’s just difficult sometimes. Everything is.”_

_“I know, love. I wish I could do something.” He wants to crawl under the bed and never have to come out again almost. If it would help and if Harry asked him to, he might._

_“You can’t,” Harry tells him. There’s another long silence in which Louis just wants to reach out and touch Harry’s arm or something to let him know that he’s there for him, that he can be his anchor and he’s never going anywhere, no matter how big of a promise that is, but he doesn’t want to push their boundaries yet. He just doesn’t want to hurt Harry, especially not now when things are going so well and their relationship still feels so fresh. “Just give me some time, please? I mean-” Louis can tell Harry is counting the seconds that he stays silent, because every time he counts seconds he absentmindedly taps his foot. Louis counts to twenty-seven. “If you could leave, please.”_

_“I’ll be just outside, alright? Call me if you need anything.” Louis gets up off the bed and starts backing up towards the door._

_Harry shakes his head one last time. “Go home, Louis. Please? I’ll call you tomorrow, I promise.”_

_Louis doesn’t tell him that he loves him, but in the silence that follows he thinks it almost fifty times and when he gets home he cries about that and everything else. It’s the first groundbreaking problem in a relationship that he hasn’t actually tried to run away from and it’s overwhelming at best._

_When Harry calls the next day and doesn’t break up with him the next time they see each other, Louis knows he’s going to try and keep Harry for a very long time._

 

/

 

Louis is thankful for the fact that his friends are too drunk to actually stop him from doing anything, even if they wanted to. He’s out of the building before they can protest or actually go out and get him from the cold. He knows that they’ll catch up soon, but at least he has a little bit of time before they tell him what a huge mistake he’s making, and how he’ll regret it in the morning. Maybe they sober up faster than him, he’ll never know.

He’s forgotten his jacket, but Zayn’s usually conscientious enough to get it for him, so he’s not really that worried about it, besides the fact that he’ll probably catch a cold for being a careless idiot.

He pulls his phone out of his pocket and dials Harry’s number, not even bothering to pull up his contact since it pulls up after he dials the first three numbers anyway.

It rings a couple of times and he’s holding his breath, praying that Harry will answer and he’ll get to hear his voice in something other than his outgoing message. Unfortunately though, that’s the only thing he gets, which he should have figured since it’s no different from any other night. He always gets Harry’s voicemail.

_Hey, it’s Harry. Leave a message._

Louis closes his eyes tight for a second and wraps one arm around himself. “Hey,” He clears his throat. “It’s- it’s me. Sorry I’m- please call me.” He hangs up, mashing his finger against the stupid touch screen, and just barely keeping himself together enough to not throw it across the pavement just to see it break into a million pieces. Maybe the satisfaction would have been nice at first, but he’s sure that he’d break down on the side of the road when he realized the symbolism and connection to his shattered heart.

 

/

 

_When Louis walks through the door Harry is standing there waiting for him with his arms crossed. He just watches Louis struggle with his bag and some other bags of groceries and doesn’t even move to help._

_Louis kicks the door closed and places everything down on the floor, stretching his arms a bit. He had to carry the bags at least a block because he couldn’t find a parking space outside of Harry’s stupid building._

_Harry is still crossing his arms._

_“Hey,” Louis says, eyeing him carefully. Harry usually gives him a peck, or two, or three, on the lips at least when he comes through the door, with a little ‘_ missed you’ _tacked on at the end. “Everything alright?”_

_He just huffs, so Louis starts unloading the grocery bags._

_“You seem upset.” He tries again after an almost eternal thirty seconds have passed._

_“You didn’t call,” Harry says flatly._

_Which is a little bit confusing because it’s not like Louis said he was going to call, just said that he’d be back before six. He checks the clock on the microwave and he’s ten minutes late. Not bad._

_“When you’re late you’re supposed to call,” Harry continues when Louis hasn’t really responded._

_“Wha-” Louis is a little bit shocked. “It’s_ ten minutes, _Harry. You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”_

_It definitely wasn’t the best thing to say, and Louis knows that sometimes he should watch his fucking mouth because Harry can be super sensitive. And it’s not just the fact that he curses like a sailor or anything, it’s just that sometimes Harry gets upset about things that Louis has not even the slightest clue as to why, and maybe it makes him a little bit upset. Like being ten minutes late for instance. Louis is late wherever the fuck he goes._

_“No, I am not fucking kidding you. Louis, we’ve talked about this.” He’s squeezing the dish towel he’s holding._

_“We talked about me calling when I’m going to be_ late, _” Louis explains. “Ten minutes late is early to me. It’s not like we have dinner plans, I was just at the fucking store.”_

 _“You know how I feel about time and plans.” They’re not raising their voices, but sometimes those are the worst arguments because they seem to come out of nowhere. “I was_ worried _.”_

_“You’re always worried,” Louis counters, kicking off his shoes._

_“I have a reason to be!” He shouts and then recoils, biting his lip and taking a step back._

_Louis doesn’t press on, doesn’t think_ ‘oh, come off it’, _doesn’t even want to go there. This is Harry’s problem and he’s supposed to help him deal with that because that’s what boyfriends do. He throws his shoes over by the front door and Harry just watches him with wide eyes as he gets up, and Louis just_ knows _that he’s trying not to cry. Harry has always worn his heart on his sleeve, and his expressions definitely don’t lie._

_“Hey,” Louis says softly, reaching out to brush his fingers over Harry’s arm. “I know. I’m sorry.”_

_Harry just looks down at his feet, rubbing his sock covered toes over the tile. “Me too.”_

_Louis shushes him and pulls him closer, giving him a hug. “Don’t be. It’s not your fault. I’ll call next time, alright?”_

_Harry nods, but he still looks guarded and Louis just wants it all to go away. He wants Harry to be sunshine like he always is and he wants the illusion that Harry is cheery from the inside out to not actually be an illusion. He wants Harry to feel as happy as he acts all of the time._

_“Where’s my hello kiss?” he asks, hoping that maybe Harry will give him a little smile and maybe then they can try to make things better, or at least pretend to. Louis is good at that._

_So they kiss for a while and eat ice cream instead of dinner in front of old reruns of Friends, and Louis holds Harry’s hand all night, even when Harry fucks him into the mattress, sweet and slow._

_And when they’re in bed that night Louis tells him all about his dad leaving and how his mom has been married more times than he’d ever wanted her to. It’s only fair after everything Harry has shared without expecting anything in return, and he deserves to know, really._

_He deserves to know that after everything, Louis may just be starting to believe in love all over again._

 

_/_

 

By the time Niall and Zayn catch up to him, followed by Liam a couple of minutes later, Louis is already sitting on the curb waiting for them. He’s talking to himself, and who knows, he might even be shouting. He’s upset and he’s angry, mostly at himself, and he’s just trying to let off steam, but apparently his friends don’t get that. They’re trying to pull him up and help him to stand so they can get him home, or at least in a taxi. Niall is trying to calm him down, telling him that it’s gonna blow right over and everything is gonna be alright.

But the thing is that it won’t be. No matter what Louis does there will never be any way to actually forget Harry. There’s no way to forget his eyes and exactly how they shine in each part of the day, in every single lighting. Louis will honestly never be able to forget Harry’s big dumb hands and the way they curl around every doorknob when he shuts them more than once, and his stupid feet and how he trips every time he tries to walk through the living room to get to Louis. His stupid hair and the way it curls in Louis’ fingers, especially the springy bits by his face. It’s just so impossible; Louis doesn’t even know why he considered it for a second.

He’s tried calling Harry a million times, but he thinks if maybe once he could just see him instead of talking to him through his answering machine then maybe it would make a difference. He’s never gotten a chance to really say what he thinks, and he has a lot to say about what he thinks, as long as Harry is willing to listen. To Louis it’s clear, and it always has been, even when Harry was depressed or crying about how he hated himself, or angry at Louis for no good reason. Even when he threw dishes at Louis and told him to leave and Louis wouldn’t go because he was worried about him and just slept outside of their apartment. Louis knows that Harry isn’t perfect, and Louis knows that he can’t ever claim to be any better. They do more than make it work though; they’re just like two fucking cliché puzzle pieces. They _orbit_ around each other and Louis knows no matter what happens, he’s always going to come back to Harry and he won’t just let it go when he knows that they are meant to be in every single lifetime and every single fucking universe.

“I have to go see him,” Louis says while he’s being helped up from his seat on the sidewalk.

Liam nearly drops him in his surprise. “Are you fucking insane?”

Louis just smiles and maybe that’s not really helping his case. “He didn’t answer the phone.”

“D’you ever think maybe there’s a reason for that?” Niall says and Louis turns to glare at him.

“Fuck you.”

They’ve gotten him to stand upright, and he’s okay on his own. He could actually walk to Harry’s place from here, easy. He might.

Zayn hands him his jacket and Louis takes it, not even realizing that he’d been shivering this whole time. The alcohol makes him feel like he’s actually warm. He slips the jacket over his shoulders, and he knows better than to tell his friends that he’s going to Harry’s, so he stays silent.

“Let’s get you a taxi.” Zayn says, guiding him by the arm softly.

Louis might be a little more than indignant when he shakes his head. “Gonna walk home.”

“That’s not a good idea.” Zayn informs him, and maybe he’s right since the other boys live in a different direction so they can’t exactly take him, but he really can’t have them know that he’s going to go see Harry. They’ll never let him go anywhere if that’s the case.

“M’very sober. Watch.” He does his best to walk in a straight line to prove to them that he’s okay to be on his own, but he’s not sure if he’s really nailed the whole walking while you’re drunk thing.

Zayn eventually gives up, after Liam tries to guide Louis and he pushes him off. There’s really no reasoning with him when he’s like this and Zayn is usually the type of person to help until he can’t and then let the other person learn from the consequences. Because of that Louis has been in some really awkward situations and woken up a few times in unfamiliar surroundings, but Zayn is a good friend and he knows what’s good for Louis.

“Don’t do anything fucking stupid,” he tells him, even though he must know that it’s all Louis ever does, and then they all head off and Louis is completely alone.

Going to Harry’s flat tonight will determine whether that will be his permanent state or not.

 

/

 

_“Wow.” Harry says, doing a little spin the middle of the room. “Your place was nice, Lou, but I think I’m in love.”_

_“In love? Have you given up on us already?” Louis teases, taking in the place himself._

_Harry wraps his arms around Louis’ waist and gives him a smacking kiss to his cheek. “Absolutely never.”_

_“Well, I’m glad you like it, because we’re kind of stuck with it now,” he says, turning to Harry._

_“You mean the apartment or the relationship?” Harry asks, sticking out his tongue._

_Louis takes the opportunity to kiss him. “Both, you prat.” And Harry kisses him back._

_“I can’t believe we bought this place!” Harry is basically grinning from ear to ear. He starts checking the rooms, even though they already did that when they first looked at the place and decided to buy it. It’s just like Harry to get so ecstatic over some crappy flat on the other side of town with a small kitchen and a tiny shower, because it’s the beginning. It’s_ theirs _. Louis gets that, gets that even though they lived together before, this is theirs and it’s the next step in their relationship. He gets to share all of this with Harry, might even get to share the rest of his life with Harry._

_It kind of hits him, standing there watching Harry look in the coat closet and then look back at Louis like he’s thinking ‘why the fuck aren’t you enjoying this as much as me’. It hits him that he really just wants to spend the rest of his life with Harry, and that kind of thing used to scare him once upon a time, but right now he’s ready to get down on one knee and make it official._

_“What?” Harry asks, putting on a mock-annoyed look again._

_“I love you,” Louis says and Harry drops the act immediately, walking over to wrap his arms around Louis. He picks him up and when he spins him around Louis can see their flat spinning around and if he closes his eyes he can pretend he’s moving forward in time to the point where he can actually propose to Harry and do it right. This is just the first step of many._

_“We bought a place!” Harry says excitedly, setting Louis down. He’s a little dizzy, but he’s pretty sure that has to do more with Harry than being spun around fifteen times, likely until it was a perfect spin._

_“We bought a place together,” Louis echoes._

_Harry kisses him and Louis almost feels a bit like he’s spinning again, and if he lets himself go Harry’s right there at the bottom._

_“If we had our furniture already I’d fuck you on the couch to celebrate.” Harry breathes against his lips when he’s pulled away._

_This time when Louis kisses him, it’s hungry and he feels a little wild and reckless with all of these thoughts going through his head. “Who needs furniture?”_

 

_/_

 

Louis isn’t mad, he really isn’t. This might be the place Harry kicked him out of, the place that was supposed to be _theirs_ , and this might be the place where he told Harry he loved him over a thousand times maybe, and this is definitely the place where he told Harry that he might be willing to spend the rest of his life with him, but Louis isn’t mad. He’s not even a little bit angry, in fact, he’s pretty sure that there are tears rolling down his face right now. He is exceptionally drunk, and feeling a little numb not only from the cold, but also the alcohol.

Someone is slipping out of the building, a woman in a long blue coat and too-high heels, so Louis quickly runs up to catch the door before it closes. He doesn’t even want to try and get buzzed up because, he may be drunk, but he knows that’s really not an option.

He pulls his jacket closer to him and starts up the steps, not really worried about forgetting where they live, or where he used to live. He could find it in his sleep.

He’s been rehearsing what he might say to Harry, given the chance to talk to him again, but walking up the steps he realizes his mind is kind of drawing a blank and he has to put together exactly what he wants to say in a little less than a minute. Which is hard since his brain feels like it’s moving ten times slower than usual.

It doesn’t really help that everything feels like it stops when he’s finally standing in front of the door, the number 217 hanging there like it always has, the seven a bit lopsided no matter how many times either of them tried to fix it. He’s here now and that makes things seem more difficult and definitely more real. He doesn’t know if he should knock or just leave, and his head is swimming with thoughts of what would happen either way, whatever decision he decides to make.

He takes a deep breath and before he can overthink it any more he knocks squarely in the middle of the door, or at least that’s what he thinks he did, it’s hard to tell when he’s had a few drinks.

There’s movement behind the door and Louis freaks out, straightening up his shirt and checking the time on his before shoving it back in his pocket as the door opens three times.

It’s half past eleven and Harry is standing right in front of him for the first time in a month.

Louis’ breath leaves him all in a rush at the sight of his boyfriend, or ex-boyfriend, rather. Harry looks fucking great, the same as he always does whenever he’s just around the house, his hair pulled back and in his stupid jean shorts on in the middle of the goddamn winter. Louis can feel the heat wafting out of the apartment, not that Harry really needs it considering he’s a human space heater, but he probably has it on all the way.

“Louis.” Harry breathes out, like he’s not really sure if it’s him who’s actually standing there.

Louis is sure that he looks like hell, in fact, he’s positive. Harry smells like heaven on earth and Louis has just gotten himself pissed, so he’s sure that he probably reeks of cigarette smoke and public bathroom, much like the stupid pub they always find themselves in.

The only thing he can really think to say, despite the fact that he had it all planned out and he’s not even really thinking right now, is, “You missed our anniversary.”

Harry looks at him curiously, like he’s not really sure what he’s talking about, and then it clicks and he just sort of stands there, looking sorry and speechless. There’s a long silence where Harry just opens his mouth and closes it a couple of times, no doubt wondering what the fuck anyone is supposed to say to that. Finally he just sighs and leans against the doorpost, crossing his stupid knit jumper covered arms. “We’re broken up, Lou.”

And it’s _that_ , it’s the fact that he still feels like he can call him nicknames and make all of this better, like he can just be so blatantly honest and not really care about whatever the fuck Louis thinks. The fact that when he told Louis he didn’t want to be with him he thought he was doing him a favor.

“Oh really?” Louis says sarcastically, hands useless by his sides, balled into fists. “Because I thought that you kicking me out was a big step in our relationship.” And God, this is not how he wanted this conversation to be going.

Harry turns his face towards the doorpost, like he can just hide from this. He’s done too much fucking hiding and Louis is really getting tired of it. He’s a runner, sure, but he changed that for Harry, the least he could do was return the favor.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers.

“I came here to do the apologizing actually,” Louis tells him, and Harry turns towards him looking confused, but he barrels on anyway, because he didn’t come here to be mad at Harry and he’s not about to start. “Because when you broke up with me, and kicked me out, and ruined my life,” And maybe he’s being a little dramatic because he’s allowed to complain about it, even with Harry right here in front of him. “I didn’t say a word, I just let it happen.”

“There’s not really much you could have said,” Harry states. He looks tired, Louis can tell now, by the way his eyes are red and his fingers are barely gripping the doorpost. He almost wishes he had asked if he had woken Harry up, not that it really would have mattered.

“Just- please listen to me?” This has to come out now and it has to happen right because this is it. If Harry is still done with Louis after this then Louis will be done too, only this time he’ll have said everything he wanted to say.

Harry nods, motioning for Louis to continue.

“Well, obviously I miss you,” Louis starts off, and if Harry notices he’s slurring his words a little bit, he doesn’t mention it. “And I’m not really good at speaking my mind, which you already know. I just wish that I’d said something at the time and didn’t wait until now. I just thought that you knew what you wanted, but then I thought, don’t I get a say in this since you told me you were putting me first and all? I should be able to tell you that I don’t want you to fucking put me first. Be selfish for once, Harry. You don’t have to take care of other people all of the time. I can take care of you sometimes too, because I want to be with you and I don’t care about if you don’t want to come out to your sister yet, and if you keep me up all night because you have to check the fucking locks over ten times. I don’t care if you make me sleep on the couch every fucking night because we’re fighting and you can’t stand me. I signed up for that, and if you want to put me first and _protect_ me from you or some shit like that, then I’m going to tell you right now that I really wish you wouldn’t.

"I only know what you’ve told me and I can’t say I understand what it’s like, all I can say is that I’m not perfect either, but you can’t push me away because you’re not. I want to work on it, and I want to work with you, like call you whenever I’ll be home late and send you texts every single time I leave somewhere, and all of that other stuff. I’m a fucking wreck without you and if it means just doing little things like that then I’m all in. I’ll be whatever I wasn’t the first time, and whatever I have to be this time. I don’t want to know what it would be like to lose you a second time.”

Harry is silent for a really long time, just staring at Louis’ shoes.

“You wouldn’t get annoyed with me?” Harry asks, and his voice is so small Louis can barely hear it. “I don’t want you to leave me.”

Louis wants to reach out and touch him or reassure him in some way, but he’s not sure if he should. “I would never.”

“You’re drunk,” Harry finally says, never being the one to let the elephant in the room go unnoticed.

“It’s the only way I could get the courage,” he admits.

Harry hates it when he gets drunk, if he comes home drunk or otherwise, Louis knows that. He’s not sure why he thought coming here in this state was a good idea. “Are you scared of me?”

Louis shakes his head. “I’m not, it’s just the thought of you kicking me out on the street again is more tolerable when I’m intoxicated.”

Harry chuckles, but it sounds dry and empty and not at all like he really found what Louis said as funny. “You’re more honest when you’re drunk.”

“And you’re beautiful when you’re tired.”

This time Harry does laugh, but once it dies down he gets all serious again, his brow knitted together in what seems almost like confusion. “That’s the reason I told you to leave. It’s hard to live with someone else, especially under these circumstances. I know you signed up for it, but I’m not sure you knew exactly what you signed up for.”

“Maybe not,” Louis admits, because it’s true. Harry could get worse or he could get better, but he will always be the way he is and Louis will have to live with that the rest of his life if he wants to be with him. Somehow that’s completely okay though, it’s not even scary when he thinks about it. “But I know that I’m still in love with you.”

Harry smiles, but he doesn’t say it back, not just yet. Maybe it’s not the right time. “I just didn’t want you to change your mind and leave me first.”

“I know you’re scared of that, but I’ve never felt the way I feel about you about anyone else, despite all of the other stuff,” Louis tells him, and it honestly is the truth. The way he feels about Harry is very unique, in a way he didn’t think he’d ever feel about anyone in his lifetime.

“It’s just that I’m-” He shakes his head. “It’s just that I am how I am, and you know that you’ll never be able to change that, right? I can try to not worry about getting kisses exactly right, and I may be able to check the locks one less time before bed, but I’ll never be able to change the way I am.”

Louis shakes his head as well, shuffling a bit on his feet. It’s cold in the hallway and he really just wants to come inside and have this conversation. “I’m not asking you to, Harry.”

“I love you too, by the way,” Harry says deliberately, the way he always says it, and it makes Louis’ heart swell.

Louis rocks back on his heels and just smiles at Harry and he’s so relieved when Harry smiles back. Nothing went exactly like how he planned, but the outcome was much better than he imagined.

“Do you want to come inside?” Harry asks. “I’ll get you some water and something for your headache.”

Louis nods and he’s about to walk in when Harry stops him and kisses him, firm on the lips. And when he kisses him the second and third time to get it just right, out of everything else, that’s what feels like coming home.


End file.
